


tear me to pieces, skin to bone

by ExtremeEvil95



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Positive Ending, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Blink and You'll Miss it Thor/Bruce, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Grief/Mourning, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, Possibly OOC, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), infinity war fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 03:26:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14487810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtremeEvil95/pseuds/ExtremeEvil95
Summary: Contains spoilers of Infinity War, so if you haven't seen the film then I suggest you don't read this!!In everything, there is a Before and After...





	tear me to pieces, skin to bone

**Author's Note:**

> ..in Steve's case, he never expected to live long enough to deal with what comes After. 
> 
> So, I saw the movie and??? I've never been so emotionally drained as I was after that movie and I had to contribute with something so here!!! A kind of Fix-It!!
> 
> Sidenote, in this Pepper and Tony never got engaged, they never got back together after their break-up in Civil War so yh, the Pepperony stuff from the film in not canon in this tbh. Aaaand I'm sorry if any of it seems OOC, never written any of the GOTG characters before, so I hope they're somewhat okay!! I love them all, but Rocket (to me) seemed to me the most logical option to be angry with things, so that's why he reacts the way he does to /some/ things in the story, hope it's okay!!
> 
> And, what I write is a theory I've come across that I enjoy. I have no idea how things go down in the comics, so this is just my interpretation of what could happen after the movie more or less. Lore aspects based on MCU, but it's lacking somewhat so details may be messed up and such!! Bear with me please!!
> 
> With that out the way, I do the usual disclaimer that I'm not English, therefor have troubles with the grammatical aspects, but I've tried to correct as much as I could. (if anyone would like to beta for me, please hit me up on my tumblr!!) (link will be in the end note)
> 
> Enjoy!! xx
> 
> (PS, title taken from the song "Lovely" by Billie Eilish and Khalid. Amazing song!!)

There is a Before and After.

Before the invasion. Before Thanos. Before the stones. Before half of the universe turned into _dust._

Steve used to think the Before was troublesome. Adjusting to a new century after being frozen for so long; trying to come to terms with how everything he used to care for and loved was all but dead and gone. Facing the first invasion from the Chitauri with Bucky’s death still fresh on his mind, his chance of the happy life with Peggy nothing more than a feverish dream, some days it felt he might’ve drowned in the memories. But, he carried on. He always did, no matter how much he wanted for everything to _stop._ If only for a moment, just enough so he could gather himself.

Not even in his deepest, most terrifying nightmares could he ever have imagined that things would end up like this; that anything could possibly be worse than what he had gone through. God, how wrong he’d been. How wrong they _all_ had been.

Bucky back from the dead, free from HYDRA and slowly becoming a man that wasn’t like the one Steve knew all those years ago, but someone he’d be proud of calling his best friend. Going through all of that, only to slip out of Steve’s grasp yet again, vanishing into dust right in front of his eyes. Steve’s _name was_  the last sound that left his lips.  _His name._

Sam, who understood Steve’s despair and stood by his side through everything. One of the bravest men Steve have had the privilege of calling his friend. Thrown into the bushes by Thanos like he weighted nothing. Rhodey’s worried voice as he called out Sam’s name, only to be answered by a deafening silence that spoke _volumes._

His best friends.

Gone.

Wanda.

Gone.

Vision.

Body still here, but gone all the same.

T’Challa.

Gone.

Millions after millions after billions after trillions of people.

Gone. Gone. _Gone._

Turned into dust, like they didn't even exist in the first place.

 

There is a Before and After now. 

   After the invasion. After Thanos. After the stones. After half of the universe turned into _dust_.

Steve knew, the moment he first laid eyes on the rings piercing through the sky and the ships crashing down into the wakandan forest, that whatever would happen, the After would be unlike anything he’s ever known.

He just thought that he wouldn’t live through the invasion long enough to have to face it. Of all the people that had to go, he was spared.

Life could be cruel, but nothing could be crueler than being left behind.

 

A week since the Dusting, and it still doesn’t feel real. Time fleets by without much thought; if the sun didn’t rise and set as normal, Steve would’ve thought that time had seized to exist completely. He feels stuck in motion, going around in circles and trying to keep himself together enough to focus on what’s at hand; a world in chaos, missing leaders, protection; families torn apart by the seams.

Earth keeps going. Chaos and loss be damned, it _keeps_ going.

And so does Steve.

Natasha is with him, as well as Thor, Bruce, Rhodey. The talking raccoon, Rocket. Shuri, who had to take up where her brother left off, leading a country in shock, with the help of Okoye and M’Baku. So young, yet so wise beyond her years.

Steve keeps himself busy; he tries to help wherever he can, going through meeting after meeting about what to do next; how to make the world function when half of the population is gone. He provides what he can, even though it’s nearly not _enough._ It’s never been enough.

During the nights, when he’s not knee-deep in meetings, he heads out to the field to help with clearing out the bodies. He keeps going through the night, offering what little support he can to the people who have to face the losses that left bodies behind. A shoulder to cry against, apologies, silently offering sympathy while they fall apart.

   Not everyone turned into nothing; the people, humans and aliens alike that died in the war, were still there; flesh, blood and bones. 

People - soldiers, friends, loved ones - who deserved proper burials.

Invaders who deserved to burn.

It’s still early in the night. The sun has barely set behind the trees, casting a golden glow over the bleak grass. It would be beautiful if it weren’t for the circumstances. Breathtaking, even.

Steve wipes at the sweat on his forehead, catching a glimpse of the dirt on his hands. A deeper, gnarlier brown than what got stuck on his hands as he tried to take ahold of Bucky. His fingers shake, he tries not to think about what the dirt resembles and wipes it off on his uniform. As he does, he comes across the bump in his pocket.

The flip phone is still in one piece. Scratched, beaten around the edges, for the most part intact. One thing that remains from a life that feels like no more than a vague dream. He thinks how he waited - _hoped -_ day after day after day, for it to ring; to finally get a response to all those messages he sent. When the day finally came, the phone blasting off with it’s shrill ringtone, the person on the other end was not who Steve expected it to be.

   It was Bruce. Steve can’t say it wasn’t a relief to hear his friend’s voice (hell, seeing him in the flesh was even a better one) because it _was._ Just, it wasn’t _Tony._

God, it wasn’t _Tony._

Steve stares at the phone and then up at the setting sun, full with a cold dread that leaves a blackened, horrid taste in his mouth.

A week. Still no trace of Tony. 

Steve knows he shouldn’t hope, knows it’ll only lead to even more despair if it turns out that Tony’s… _gone,_ like so many others. Still, there’s a tiny part of him, buried deep down beneath layers of sorrow and guilt, that tells him that Tony’s _alive._

Wherever Tony is, he’s _alive._ He has to be. He  _needs_ to.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, the one shaped from all the confessions he never got to make, sliding the phone back down into his pocket. 

_”Growing tired, Cap?”_

A tug at his lips, Steve turns to spot the unmistaken shape of War Machine flying over the field, carrying a bunch of aliens. There’s no usual bite nor sarcasm in Rhodey’s voice, only a deep sort of exhaustion Steve knows a little too well; it can be found in all of them now, some more so than others.

”If only,” Steve sighs. He hoisters the carcass of a alien onto his shoulders. The smell coming from the body is strong enough to make slight nausea settle in the pit of his stomach; a different sort of rotten, sweet in a way that’s so terribly _wrong_ and out of place. Usually it sticks, the smell that is. He can stand in the shower for hours, scrape his skin red and sore, and the smell will still remain. ”What about you, Rhodes? Think you can keep up with someone that's almost twice your age?”

Rhodey breaths out a gritty sound, trying to laugh, but it’s like he can’t remember how it works. _”Way ahead of you already, Cap. Almost done with Thor’s crater, only a few aliens left.”_

The area where Thor appeared with Rocket, where he had launched down with the force of an earthquake, has gone from soft grass to solid rocks; a gaping wound in the ground, a constant reminder of what happened here. Thor used to be powerful before, but now? Steve’s eternally grateful that he’s on their side. Despite losing so much - a home, his family, friends, most of his  _people,_ Thor's only grown stronger.  _Kinder._

”Good, the faster we get this done, the easier it'll be for the people to mourn. They've been through enough as it is.”

Rhodey makes a affirmative noise. _”You got that right, Cap.”_

Steve throws the corpse into the bonfire some of the wakandan soldiers have started. They watch over the fire with grim expressions on their faces; the sorrow over their fallen comrades and hatred for those who took the lives from them shines clear in the dancing flames. 

   Up close, the heat is almost unbearable. It smells heavily of burnt flesh and dry grass.

Strands of clotted, blond hair falls down across Steve’s eyes, dried with fluids from the aliens and his own sweat. He’s disgusting, that much he knows, and he wonders how long it will take to wash everything off his body this time; how many hours he’ll spend under the stream of cold water, guiltily thinking of how he’s still here when there’s so many that aren’t.

Turning, ready to head back to a patch of the field Steve’s worked to clear over the last half an hour, he spots something that stands out up on the sky. The sky bleeds, red, pink, deep blue; in the middle of it all, by the setting sun, there’s a spot of black.

Tiny enough to be smaller than the tip of Steve’s index finger. Nonetheless, fear shoots through him instantly. The dot only grows bigger. It moves, right in their direction.

”War Machine!” he barks into the comms instantly, shaking the exhaustion off to turn into what the situation needs; Captain America, not Steve Rogers. ”There’s an unidentified black spot up on the sky. Do you see it?”

War Machine hovers in the air, a glimmering figure to Steve’s right. He’s not close enough for Steve to make out anything but the rough shapes of the armour, and then he takes off towards the thing in the sky.

”Rhodey!” Steve calls out, hurrying after the flying armour as fast as he can. He jumps across bumps in the ground, shoots past startled warriors, shouting out commands for them to stay back and be prepared for anything as the dot grows bigger, gaining more substance.

Even before Rhodey grits out that the dot is in fact a ship, Steve’s come to the same conclusion.

_”Seems to be just the one, can’t get a good read on it from this distance.”_

”Wait for back-up, don’t intervene with it alone,” Steve warns, cursing under his breath when Rhodey doesn’t slow down. ”Thor! Rocket! Nat! We got an incoming ship, need immediate back-up. Rhodes’ heading straight for the damn thing, get here quick!”

The words are barely out of his mouth before there’s a crackling sort of electricity coming from the city. Blue lines shoots up across the sky, towards the ship.

   The ship on other hand, is headed straight for the field.

_”I’ll inform Shuri, keep me posted if things goes south,”_ comes Natasha’s curt response. Before, it used to be hard to get anything out of her; she wasn’t much of a talker, especially not when it come to her sharing her emotions, not even to Steve who saw her as one of his closest friends. Now, after the loss of Bucky (who she just got back, after  _everything)_ she barely spoke at all; a hard exterior, not showing any of the cracks that _had_ to be there, hiding beneath her skin. _”Should I wake Banner?”_

”Keep him on standby for now.”

A sharp intake of breath, followed by Rhodey’s voice, spiked with disbelief. _”I’ve scanned the ship, and from what I can tell there's only two heat signatures. One's a little bit off, but the other is more firm. Should we wait until it touches down or shoot it out of the sky, Cap? I’m up for some fireworks if you are.”_ He's finally slowed down, hovering in the air with his weapons at the ready.

Two heat signatures. They can handle that, what and whoever the intruders might be.

Then again… Thanos is one man, and see how that turned out.

Steve comes to a halt, breathing heavily as he watches how the ship sinks lower and lower, heading towards the ground. Not firing first is a risk, but the ship has shown no signs of planning an attack so far. From the looks of it, the ship doesn't even seem to have any weapons to begin with. ”Stand down, but be ready for anything.”

The lightning comes closer, and with it becomes the figure of a man even clearer. As the lightning touches the ground, Thor lands with a bang. He stands up, brushing the dust off his armour as he steps over to Steve, gaze firmly fixed on the ship in the sky.

   "Friend or foe?" Thor asks, hand ghosting over the handle of his axe.

   Steve shakes his head. "No idea, hopefully a friend. Lord knows we need more of those."

They fall into silence, both watching how the ship sinks through the air until it lands roughly on the ground, screeching loudly while it plows through dirt and grass. Pebbles and tuffs of grass shoots up around the vehicle, leaving a line of minor destruction in its wake.

   There's a moment of complete stillness; Steve barely dares to breath, wishing that he'd brought his shields with him so he didn't have to fight with nothing but his fists. Still, he raises them and waits for something to happen.

   "Steady," Steve says. 

 

A pylon of smoke comes from the front, followed by cracking sounds of metal being moved out of place. It takes a minute for the door to open, but it feels like an eternity due to how tense the situation is. Steve tries to ignore the flutter of fear his heart makes at the whizzing sound of the door; how it slides open and reveals two unclear figures.

   The pair move out of the ship slowly, the taller of them steadying the other.

   The taller one is a woman that’s.. distinctly blue. 

The other… Steve  _knows_ the other.

 

Steve launches forward.

”Tony!” he shouts, a sudden bang of desperation; disbelief, _hope_. ”Tony!”

The sound of his voice gains the attention from both Tony and the woman; Tony pulls out of her grip, crying out a broken _"Steve"_ and everything’s glistering around the edges, bathing in the last, golden light of another day coming to an end, because it's  _Tony,_ Tony's  _alive -_

Steve knocks into him with force, throwing caution out the window and pulling him into a hug. With Tony pressed against his chest, warm, solid - _real_ \- there’s nothing he can think off but how Tony’s breathing shakily, trembling fingers digging into Steve’s back. No armour, just Tony, looking rough and bruised with circles around his eyes, torn clothes and the smell of dried blood in his hair.

”You’re _alive,”_ he hears Tony whisper, his tone so full of the same disbelief Steve's also feeling; like he’s trying the words out for the first time. ” _You’re alive._ Fuck, Steve _. Steve.”_

Something warm and wet slides down Steve’s cheeks. He doesn't know when he started crying, but now as it’s happening, he can’t seem to stop. The tears mix with grit and sweat, he leans forward and kisses the top of Tony’s head, unable to speak louder than rough whispers. ”Tony, Tony, _Tony.”_

The hug doesn’t last long. As soon as War Machine lands on the ground, Tony’s out of Steve’s arms in a heartbeat. Steve lets him go, his hand trailing along Tony’s arm, fingers gracing over fingers, until Tony’s out of his reach. He wipes at the tears streaming down his cheeks forcefully, biting back a sob. Tony shoots him a quick look, as if he’s apologising for leaving and Steve doesn’t know _why_ because he understand, god, he _understands -_

”Tony _,_ oh my god, Tony, _”_ Rhodey steps out of his armour just in time to catch Tony in his arms, the two men embracing in a tight hug; they’re keeping each other upward, Tony’s head buried against Rhodey’s shoulder as he shakes with his sobs. Steve closes his eyes and listens to them talk, the _relief_ in their voices of finding each other alive. Despite the crying and the pain of their losses, he savours this moment; Tony, _alive_ , a breath of much needed hope. 

”Son of a bitch, Stark, I’ve been worried sick about you. Launching yourself into space, how, _just_ \- fuck, you have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

”I’m sorry, Rhodey, fuck. It was the best option, I tried, I tried to -”

   The pain in Tony's voice is raw enough to cut, his words disappearing into a heavy sob.

”Enough, you gotta stop pulling stunts like that. You did enough, whatever happened, you did everything you could. You _always_ do.”

Steve opens his eyes to catch how the blue woman stares at him out of the corner of his eye. There’s nothing but darkness in her eyes, two black, glimmering holes without an end. He approaches her slowly, giving her all the time in the world to get away if she wants to.

She waits for him to reach her. The closer he gets, the more she resembles him of Vision; her skin, her whole body looks.. different. Robotic. Not real, but constructed.

”I’m Steve Rogers,” he extends his hand, grateful that his voice isn’t breaking anymore. Not quite back to normal, an undertone of vulnerability, weariness. ”Thanks for helping Tony get back to Earth.”

She doesn’t take his hand. Her lips tugs upwards in the tiniest hints of a smile, gone as quick as it appeared, so small in comparison to the sheer, untamed happiness in Thor's voice when he tells Tony how good it is to see him alive. Yet, Steve gets the feeling that this smile is a lot when it comes from her.

   He lets his hand drop down to his side.

”He’s been stabbed. Tried to patch it up as much as he could with what little he had. Probably should take him to a doctor,” she says, trying to make it sound somewhat casual, like she’s talking about the weather, but not completely succeeding. There's a tint of worry in her tone. Steve’s head instantly snaps to the side, to confirm what she says by looking at Tony; there’s no visible blood from this distance, but he's moving much slower than normal, tending to lean a bit more on one side than the other.

Steve opens his mouth to thank her again for bringing Tony back; he feels the change in the air even before the voices of his friends turn frantic and worried. ”Tony - hey, _Tony,_ I got you buddy, I got you - Cap!” He manages to see how Tony's on his knees, Thor and Rhodey crouching in front of him with concern flashing over their faces.

”Bring him to medical, now!” Steve orders. He turns to look at the woman, only to find her heading back to the spaceship. Rhodey takes off, followed by the crack of Thor’s lightning. They shoot across the sky, back to the the capitol.

Steve wants to follow them. Every fiber of his being wants to make sure that Tony’s okay; he can’t lose him again, not now when he just got him _back_. Tony can’t die from something as trivial as a stab wound - he _can’t._

Yet, there’s something he must do first.

The spaceship is torn across the hull. Bruised from the rough landing, still with smoke coming out of the engines. The woman stands by the door, staring into the dark heart of the ship with anger blazing in her eyes. Deep enough to scorch anything in her path.

Steve feels the anger settle on him. His skin feels too small, too warm under her gaze.

”If you ever need our help, give us a call,” he says. "It's the least we can do."

She snorts, more out of surprise than anything. ”I’ll keep it in mind.”

”Where are you headed? We can give you resources, food and water, if you need some. Whatever you need, we got you covered.”

She tilts her head to the side, dark eyes studying Steve’s face. Searching after lies, tricks. If she finds anything that speaks in that favour, she doesn’t show.

”There’s nothing I need from you, Captain. I only need revenge.”

She steps inside. Before she disappears into the darkness, she throws a look over her shoulder. ”Nebula. My name’s Nebula. Keep Stark alive.”

Steve stands there, watching, until the door closes behind her.

 

One of the Dora Milaje warriors meets him by the hovercraft.

The fire’s died down. What used to be a blazing tower, is now nothing more than a glowing pile of ashes. Just like everyone else, all those who vanished; everything turns to ash in the end.

”Where to, Captain?”

Steve steps onto the vehicle. ”Medical. Now.”

 

*~*

 

Inside, in the lights of the room in the medical wing, it’s even more prominent that Tony’s been through hell. The arc reactor is back, glowing beneath the thin fabric of a shirt he must’ve gotten from the medical staff, the bags beneath his eyes dark enough to resemble bruises.

Tiny cuts all over, a split lip.

Nothing compares to the hollowness in his eyes; all of the determination beaten out of him, no more than a shell remaining. Something sparks in those brown eyes when he looks at Rhodey, something tangible and real; something sparks in his eyes when he looks at _Steve_. Not hurt, but something just as real.

”The wizard, Doctor Strange, told me before we lost the Time stone, that he saw through over 14 million possible endings for this war,” Tony glances around the room, his gaze lingering on all of them for the briefest of moments. He taps his fingers against the covers, as if he’s creeping out of his skin to just sit still and rest. ”14 million possible outcomes, and there’s only one in which we win.”

”Win? Sorry to break it to you pal, but if you haven’t noticed, Mr Nutsack Chin’s already clicked his magic fingers and wiped out half of the universe, including my friends. Smells like a defeat to me,” Rocket spits, arms crossed over his tiny chest. He’s perched by the wall; prickly enough to sting. Then again, he’s only now found out that his entire team’s vanished in the Dusting; his anger is not without source. 

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. His fingers tremble, just enough to draw attention. When he looks up, his eyes are wet. ”Strange made it clear that if we want to win, half of the universe had to die first. Dude had to vanish as well, tip of the fucking iceberg, so I can’t really ask him to elaborate what he meant by that now, can I? Funnily enough, people enjoy to leave huge fucking messes for me to fix. Fucking goatee Gandalf wasn’t any different.”

Rocket looks as if he’s got a biting remark at the ready, but Rhodey jumps in before all hell breaks loose. They don’t have the luxury of fighting each other anymore; if they’re going to get through this, they have to work together. Despite their differences; despite their pasts; despite how much they’ve hurt each other.

Steve ducks his head, inhaling a quivering breath. All of the mistakes he’s done, they seem to bleak now compared to reality. Still, doesn’t make them nor the consequences any less real.

”Takes balls to do something like that,” Rhodey says with a sigh. ”Sacrificing half of the universe in hopes that a bunch of traumatised superheroes comes up with a plan to reverse time or something to bring everyone back. He must’ve had one hell of a reason to do so, if you ask me.”

A subtle change in Tony’s posture. He sinks deeper into himself, something breaking inside of him for the entire room to see.

Shuri stands a little taller. She may be the youngest out of all of them, a teenager burdened with a purpose larger than life, yet she’s carrying the weight of the hand she’s been dealt without showing any struggles. The fierce love she has for her brother shines in her eyes, mixed with the anger and sadness over his passing. ”What happened with the Time stone? Mr Stark, what reason could Strange possibly have to sacrifice so much on a leap of faith?”

Tony doesn’t say anything at first.

He breaks in silence, piece by piece.

It’s enough for Steve to understand. He _knows,_ and the realisation of what’s happened crushes him inside for Tony’s sake. No one should have something as massive, as undeniably horrendous on their conscience. How.. how does one even begin.. -

”He gave up the stone for you.”

Steve knows he’s right when Tony forces his eyes shut, a grimness spreading over his features. He looks older like this, tiny wrinkles around his eyes. The weight of the universe Strange sacrificed on his behalf on his shoulders.

”If we have a shot at winning, we need you alive,” Steve continues, his voice barely more than a whisper. Every word is tainted with a deep sadness; for Tony, for everyone. ”Strange knew that, so he gave up the stone to make sure that you remained alive.”

Tony’s eyelids flicker open, he meets Steve’s gaze and he takes the air out of Steve’s lungs with him. ”If I knew what the fuck he needs me to do, I’d be doing it already, believe me. But he clocked out before I got the chance to ask, so me being alive doesn’t exactly help with anything right now.”

”Don’t say shit like that,” Rhodey says, one soft, full of concern. ”Dude thought you were a big deal to keep around, and I for one ain’t complaining.”

”I love you Rhodey, but doesn’t really change anything,” Tony sighs. ”There’s still so much I don’t understand about those stones, what possibly could be strong enough to put things back the way it was. If anyone has any ideas, don’t be shy. I’m all ears.”

”I’ve been to the doctor’s home in New York,” Thor says. ”When he didn’t teleport me all over the place, I did get a good look at what he stores in there. With a task to protect Earth, shouldn’t he have access to books and tomes that might as well provide us with the answers we seek? Or maybe just something that could push us in the right direction?”

Rocket stands up, ignoring Thor’s proposition to instead focus solely on Tony. ”So let me get this straight; all of my friends went toast because some self-proclaimed wizard dude thought that you, of all people, is the saviour of the universe? So far, you haven’t exactly shown that your life’s worth more than a damn Infinity Stone, but what the fuck do I know, right? Give me a _break_!”

”I didn’t ask for this, I didn’t ask him to trade one of the stones to keep me from dying. I didn’t ask him to do anything,” Tony says, but it’s in vain.

Rocket heads for the door with a cold scoff, anger oozing off him in poisonous waves. Thor looks like he might try to stop him, but Bruce places a hand on Thor’s chest, keeping him in place. Rocket needs some space to calm down, away from the one person that works a reminder for everything he lost. From the way Tony slums down even further into the mattress, drained of energy, it’s safe to assume he doesn’t hold Rocket’s anger against him; truthfully, it seems like Tony might think he deserves it.

Bruce is the first to speak after Rocket’s departure. ”I think some of us should head back to New York. Strange had a friend, Wong, that lived with him at the sanctum. He might still be there if we’re lucky, so it’s worth a check. Besides, we should try and keep this reality functioning, and from what I’ve heard, things seem to be crazy over there after what’s happened.”

Thor’s fingers touch the outside of Bruce’s wrist, fingertips ghosting over soft skin. There's a story there, in how they've closer than ever before; Steve wonders when it changed, but he's happy that they have each other in this. ”I agree. If there’s another attack, we need to be ready to protect Earth on all fronts. Not many of us are left, but we can’t all remain hidden away here while the rest of the world is in flames.”

Shuri gives a small nod, peering at M’Baku and Okoye in a silent conversation. A sigh escapes her lips. ”We’ll work from here, trying to find out as much as we can about the Infinity Stones and if there’s something that can match them in power. If there’s anyone of you that wants to remain here, you’re free to do so.”

”I’ll go to New York,” Tony declares. He sits up a little more straight, the blanket pooling around his waist. ”Got some unfinished business to attend to, so might as well stop by Strange’s place while I’m in the neighbourhood.”

”I’ll come with you,” Steve says. 

 

Nothing’s set in stone, but they split up into teams. Steve, Tony, Rhodey and Natasha will go back to the States and see if they can find anything in Strange's mansion, and also try and get in touch with the US government and see if they can work things out; Thor, Bruce and Rocket will travel to Norway and try to come in contact with Jane and Dr Selvig and get them to help if they’re still alive, then try and gather more friends and contacts from all over the world, while Shuri, Okoye and M’Baku remain in Wakanda and do what they can from here.

It’s not much. They have no idea what they’re after. But, it’s a start.

In the end, that’s all they need. 

*~*

 

Steve stands in the shower for more than an hour.

He scrubs and scrubs and scrubs until his skin has turned pink and stings; he scrubs until there’s no stains left, only brown muck dissolving with the water down in the drain.

No matter how hard he scrubs, he can’t shake the image of ashes clinging to his hands. Prickles of brown across pale skin; remains of his friends, loved ones, strangers. 

He slides down along the shower wall. Under the stream, he sits and lets the water tear him down. Piece by piece, until there’s nothing but a raw, exposed nerve left. Consumed by the aching, breathing guilt with claws in his chest, tearing at his heart.

Tears fall on their own, mixing with the water from the shower.

He cries, silently, with his eyelids firmly shut, until there’s no tears left; only dry sobs, ravishing through his chest.

Brown spots of ash across pale skin.

They won’t go away.

 

*~*

 

”Tony’s asking for you.”

Steve swings around to find Rhodey leaning against the doorframe, tired smile splayed across his lips. He looks like he might fall asleep at the spot, tension buried deep into his spine.

”How’s he doing?” Steve wonders. Without his uniform, he feels exposed; the fabric of his hoodie and jeans provides with little to no protection, but he can’t visit Tony with an armour that smells of death. He tugs at the hems of the hoodie, nervously so.

Rhodey gives a quiet laugh, falling into step by Steve’s side as they head out. ”There’s no one as good at keeping a brave face on in the most ridiculous situations like Tony. I really don’t understand how he does it sometimes, you know. If I were in his shoes, man… I’m glad I’m not, but mad he has to be, you know?”

They talk quietly to one another during the rest of the walk to Tony’s room. No one’s out walking around, causing the building to feel even bigger with the empty corridors and dark rooms. There's a constant buzz in the air from the advanced technology littered across the walls, lights flickering on due to their movements. It's the most extraordinary place Steve's ever been to, but it's not _home_. 

   Steve wishes Rhodey a good night, watching briefly how Rhodey heads down towards the guest rooms as he tries to calm his nerves down. He takes a deep breath and opens the door to Tony’s room with one smooth push.

   The room's almost completely dark. Lights from the city casts a faint glow through the windows, accompanied by unmistakable, vibrant light from the Tony's new arc reactor.

It’s just light enough for Steve to see the outline of Tony’s body on the bed, how Tony holds a hand over his side, over what Steve thinks must be where the wound is. He doesn’t seem to be in any pain, but there’s a deep line between his eyebrows that’s nothing short of worrisome.

”Hi,” Steve exhales. His voice sounds too loud in the room, even though he’s quiet enough to pass it off as a whisper. ”You still awake?”

A dry, weak snort comes from the bed. ”What can I say, even before a mutated grape tried to kill us all, going to sleep at reasonable hours wasn’t my strong suit.”

Steve dares himself to head for the bed, sitting down by the end of it; close, yet far away enough to stop himself from doing things he shouldn’t. In this reality, where everything has changed and so much have been ripped away from him, his feelings for Tony seem insignificant. They've grown into something deep and constant, rooted into his very soul. Still. A little too late, and not even close to what Tony deserves. Tony deserves so much more, so much that Steve can't give him.

”I can’t believe you called the biggest and deadliest enemy we’ve ever faced a mutated grape,” Steve comments. ”You’re right, though it doesn’t make him any less terrifying.”

He thinks back to how he launched himself in Thanos’ way. He'd thought, that if he could keep Thanos away from Wanda and Vision long enough, then they might've been able to end it all. He tried, braced himself from the gauntlet with his bear hands; it worked, for a few seconds he thought they could do it, until Thanos pulled away and punched Steve down into the ground with enough force to break bones in the process.

Steve’s still not fully healed. He’s getting there, but it’s nothing compared to what the others had to go through. A few broken ribs are nothing compared to being removed from existence entirely, after all.

Tony chuckles bitterly. He tilts his head to the side, eyes glimmering through the faint light. There’s safety to be found in the dark, a place where truths can be shared without as much judgement. Dares you to confess things you’d never dream of doing in the light.

Steve’s aware of how close they are. How Tony’s legs are directly behind him, beneath the blanket. Warm. Solid. _Real._

”I haven’t seen Wilson around. Nor Barnes.. did they..?”

Steve hangs his head, heart lurching painfully in his chest. ”Gone,” he says, tongue heavy as lead. ”Bucky, he.. I couldn’t, I tried to. He vanished.. right before my eyes.”

”Shit,” Tony sighs, exaggerated. ”Fuck, Steve. That’s, I’m sorry.”

The laugh Steve makes is a ghost of what it should be. Bitter to the core, tainted with both guilt and grief. ”I’m not alone with losing people. Wanda, Vision, even T’Challa, all gone. I haven’t been able to reach Clint nor Scott, Thor’s lost most of his people, his family. It’s… everyone have lost someone. I'm not any different.”

”Still, doesn’t make it any easier to deal with,” Tony says lowly, afraid to make too much noise in the stillness. ”I.. I tried to call Pepper and Happy. Neither picked up. It’s just.. I’ve had this nightmare for so long, ever since New York and I went into the wormhole. Wanda gave it substance, back when I created Ultron; she showed me a future, my biggest fucking fear, and I.. - _fuck,_ I.”

Steve holds his breath, spreading his fingers over the blanket.

They’ve never talked like this before. Without barriers. The end of the world changes things. Being able to talk to Tony like this, the only good thing so far.

   When Tony struggles to find the right words to say, Steve takes the chance to show some of his own. Desperately, he hopes that by sharing some of his own fears, Tony will find the words to share what's eating him up inside too. The words pour out of Steve like water cascading in a waterfall. When they start to come, there’s no way of holding them back.

”Wanda showed me the dance I promised to take Peggy to. How the life I remembered didn’t exist anymore, fading in front of my eyes, and how terrified I was of not letting it go just quite yet. That’s why I acted like I did with Bucky; Bucky’s - _was_ the last link to my old life, my best friend, a piece of the first family I ever had. I couldn’t lose him again, not when I finally got him back; that’s why I did what I did with the Accords, why I left things the way I did in Siberia. I wanted to keep Bucky safe, but by doing that I also let the team down; I let you down, Tony. It was never my intention to hurt you. Before.. everything, it ate me up inside, how I never got to tell you how sorry I was for everything that happened back then. Seems so trivial now, doesn’t it?”

He lets out a broken laugh, shaking his head slightly in disbelief over his own boldness. If they’re going to be working together again, they need to start somewhere; words Steve’s carried with him for the last few years, finally out in the open.

Before Thanos, confessing this to Tony would make him feel like he was walking around on needles; waiting to be stung. Now, he’s weary in a different way; not as scared for Tony’s hatred, but afraid that he might be too late with things they should’ve talked through then and there. Years ago.

Tony doesn’t say anything, blinking while he searches for the words he’s after. There’s so many different emotions flashing though his eyes, too many that Steve can’t focus on just one. He melts under his gaze, exposed with every secret lined deep into his skin.

”I tried to hate you at first. I wanted to hate you, _god_ , not for Barnes specifically but because you’re just as stubborn as me when it comes down to it. I was angry that you didn’t tell me about my parents - that was never your secret to keep, never will be.”

Steve swallows around the rock etched into his throat. Sour taste in his mouth. ”I know, I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I never hated you. It was never hate that forced me to act the way I did.”

”A part of me will always be angry at you for what happened. I’m not exactly known to forgive and forget, but with everything that’s going on, I’m,  _fuck_ it, I'm going to let it slide. I was an ass, too. Too focused on trying to make the Accords work with Ross breathing down my next to listen to what you were going through; they weren’t good as they were, but I let that slide and that was where I fucked up. I fucked up when I went after Bucky with every bad intention in the book. Compared to Thanos, I’d do that fucking week over in a heartbeat.”

Steve huffs out a weak laugh. Rough around the edges, dripping off the past few years heartache. He had hoped to have the chance to talk to Tony about what happened every day since he left with Bucky in Siberia; this just wasn’t how he thought it’d go.

”You and me both,” he says. ”Maybe we could’ve made it right the 2nd time around.”

Tony sits up, burying his face in his hands before looking straight at Steve; eyes wet with unshed tears, haunted by hurt deep enough to settle into his bones. It breaks Steve’s heart to look at him, but it’s a pain he’s willing to endure. ”That whole mess aside, there’s something I need to say, I need - _shit,_ just.”

They’re even closer. If Steve leans forward, he’ll be able to touch Tony’s knee; his thigh. He doesn’t; he only sits there, fingers curled around the soft fabric of the blanket.

”The nightmare Wanda showed me was.. _fuck,_ she showed me the end of a battle. An alien invasion, the sequel to the Chitauri invasion I've been waiting to happen, kind of. I was alone, walking around that battlefield. So many were dead; Nat, Thor, Bruce, Clint - _you_ were there, dying in front of my eyes, telling me that I could’ve saved you all, if I would’ve been better I could’ve saved all of you.”

Tony breaths and it comes out in short, rapid exhales, as if he’s close to gasp for air. He places a closed fist in front of his mouth, the pain raw enough to cut flashing in his eyes. ”Back on Titian, I wasn’t alone. It was me, Strange, Nebula, three of Rockets’ friends, Star-Lord - what sort of name is that? Ah, Mantis, Drax and.. Spider-Man. The kid.”

Steve’s seen footage online of a web-slinging hero in New York; the very same one that gave him a good run in Leipzig, years ago. Young, full of ambition; Steve’s heart breaks even more, a clean split in two.

”Did they..?”

The nod is barely showing; a curt twist to Tony’s head, eyelids forced shut while his knuckles turns white. ”Strange - _jesus,_ fuck, Strange sacrificing the Time stone for me, all of them but Nebula vanished. Peter - _Peter,_ god, _Peter,_ he vanished right in my arms. He’s, _was,_ 17 years old! Just a kid, I told him to stay behind, but he never listens, no one ever does, and now, I can’t, that’s - that’s on me, Steve, he died in my arms, scared shitless,and I promised him he’d be okay, we _all would be okay -_ that’s on me. I’ve lost _everyone. T_ hat’s on _me._ ”

The guilt that comes from Tony feels like a physical punch. It wires around Steve’s throat, squeezing tight, and Steve wonders how someone can carry all that guilt around with them without breaking completely. His own seems almost pale in comparison, and that terrifies him.

He reaches out, hand curling around one of Tony’s almost desperately.

Tony clings to it, leaning his forehead against their clasped hands and forcing back sobs. He’s trembling all over, not even trying to hide how wounded he is about this whole thing; how his life got spared while half of the universe didn’t.

”Not everyone,” Steve croaks, trying to steady his voice somewhat. It doesn’t work as well as he wants it to, but the following words don’t break as much when he says them out loud. ”You didn’t lose everyone; not Bruce, not Thor, not Natasha, not Rhodey, not _me._ All of us would switch places with the ones we’ve lost if we could, but life doesn’t work like that. Life’s cruel, unfair and takes more than it gives; we can’t switch places, so what we need to do is to avenge them. Make things right, by getting them all back one way or another.”

He moves closer, gently tugging at their hands so Tony can lean against his shoulder if he wants to. Tony does, slumping against him like a ragdoll. His lips barely move when he speaks, words muffled against the fabric of Steve’s hoodie.

”How are we gonna do that? How are we gonna bring everyone back?”

Steve strokes his hand down over Tony’s back, slow and careful, spreading his fingers and keeping Tony against him. ”I don’t know. But, us - Bruce, Shuri, Thor, Nat, Rocket, so many others - being alive, that has to count for something. Whatever future Strange saw us win in, we’re meant to be alive in it to make it work. It won’t be easy, but when is it ever? I’ll rip the gauntlet of Thanos’ hand myself if that’s what we need to do to win.”

”We have the four smartest people in the universe on our side; you, Bruce, Shuri and Rocket. Together, we’ll figure something out. Something that sends Thanos back into whatever hole he crawled out of.”

Tony tries to laugh, but it comes out bitter and _wrong._ ”Do you even believe in that yourself anymore? That we can win shit as long as we’re doing it together?” He leans back enough so Steve can get a good look at his face; without much thought, lead by sheer impulse, Steve’s hand moves to cup Tony’s face, thumb stroking across Tony’s jaw, by his bottom lip.

”I have to. Strange saved your life for a reason, and whatever that reason might be, I’m gonna be right by your side, helping in any way I can. We worked well before, there’s nothing that says we can’t work like that again.”

Other confessions threatens to spill from his lips; words he should’ve said a long time ago, those that still lingers in the back of his throat. He can’t seem to say them, not now after everything they’ve already gone through, but he hopes Tony feels them in the way Steve holds him tight, in how he kisses the top of Tony’s head briefly.

They fall into silence, only the sound of their breathing splitting through the stillness. Steve closes his eyes, pushes down the guilt that rises like bile in his throat over that he can be here, holding onto Tony for dear life. He tries to savour the feel of Tony’s body, the places where they touch and how there’s a faint smell of sweat and blood lingering in Tony’s hair.

When Tony speaks, he utters the words carefully, each of raw and sincere. ”There’s one thing you can do for me.”

”Anything,” Steve says.

Slowly, Tony pulls out of Steve’s embrace. Not entirely, but enough so he can meet his gaze straight on. Hurricanes reside in Tony’s eyes, the kind that leaves total destruction in their wake. As he leans forward, the breath hitches in Steve’s throat and he _knows_ what’s going to happen, _he knows -_

Tony’s close enough that Steve can make out every eyelash, every tiny cut along Tony’s skin. ”Don’t disappear,” he breathes, words ghosting over Steve’s lips.

”I won’t,” Steve promises, closing the distance between them. He savours the taste of fire and life on Tony’s tongue, briefly losing himself in a ravishing bliss of being alive, alive, _alive._ It doesn’t stop the guilt from seeping through him once they break apart, out of breath and trembling.

He tugs Tony closer, the two of them slotting together like pieces of the same puzzle.

He fights down the guilt, and for a moment, if only one, he’s glad to be alive. And that Tony’s alive there, with him.

 

*~*

__

One part of Steve resides deep into the Wakandan forest, where he lost his friends and most of the family he’s made for himself. The aching part, the one that breaths guilt with claws constantly scratching at the inside of his chest.

The other part resides in a dimly lit room in the medical wing of the royal palace, clutched in the hands of a man that would throw himself into the fires of hell without blinking if it meant he could make things right.

 

For the first time since the Dusting, Steve lets himself hope that despite how grim things are, there’s a chance they can make things right.

Bring everyone back. Whatever the cost might be.

 

*~*

 

Three days later, when Tony’s back up on his feet again, they leave for New York.

After all, they’ve got work to do.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a kudo or comment if you enjoyed it!! Be gentle with me please, I'm having a rough time with my writing and would appreciate encouragement a great deal instead of discourse or negative opinions tbf.
> 
> Follow my tumblr if you want, it's[distant-solar-systems](https://distant-solar-systems.tumblr.com/). :)
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading, hope to see you all in the next fic!! xx


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